


Truces and Temporary Ceasefires

by SilverAmoebasquid



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (mild blood warning), AKA the biggest disaster of the 21st century, CAPTAIN/TEAM SWAP, FutaYaha, M/M, TeruShira, ennoaka - Freeform, rip everyone, ships are very low key and in the background, that should give you an indication of how well this goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 19:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12564712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverAmoebasquid/pseuds/SilverAmoebasquid





	Truces and Temporary Ceasefires

“Akaashi...”

“What.”

“Open the door please.”

“I said no and I meant it, Shirabu. I’m sorry but I don’t want to be a part of whatever is going on out there.”

“Oh. Yeah. I know. I meant let me in because I’m sick of their bullshit as well.”

There was a soft chuckle from inside the supply closet followed by a scraping sound as the chair was moved away from under the doorknob.

“Thank you,” Shirabu sighed, slipping into the small room and fastening the door behind him again.

“What are they doing now?” Akaashi asked boredly, turning on his phone’s flashlight so they could see each other in the dark room. “I don’t really think I want to know, but if they’re planning on burning your school down, I don’t want to be trapped in the closet.”

“If they burn my school down, I’m going to make sure they go down with it.” Shirabu rolled his eyes. “When I left they were still talking about pranking the first years.”

“That’s not so bad... I’m surprised Chikara’s in on it though.”

“He was saying if we start a prank war, he’s going after his second years because his first years just so happen to be more mature than them anyway. Everyone else seemed on board with it entirely though.”

“That makes more sense. You don't want to be a part of that?”

“My first years are taller than me. They’re scared of me for now, but I’m not picking any fights. It’s immature anyway, though I’m not sure what we expected from the Nonsense Squad out there.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it; none of the kouhai are gonna eat it.”

Shirabu whirled around and found himself face-to-face with Yahaba.

“Holy sh—! How the fuck did you get in here!? The door is locked!”

Yahaba crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. “Come on, Kenjirou, there’s more than one way into a supply closet.”

Shirabu narrowed his eyes and took a confrontational step toward Yahaba, puffing his chest out slightly. “First of all, you do not get to call me Kenjirou. Second, there is not more than one way into this closet. Third, get the fuck out.”

Yahaba let out a fake laugh and sauntered toward the door and kicked the chair to the side, flinging the door open and allowing the light from the rest of the gymnasium to flow in. “You guys need to get out here. Everyone else is going to be here in a bit. And don’t worry, we pranked the kouhai last time we were all together for a training camp. So none of them are going to be eating it. If anything, it’ll be us.”

“Kenjirou!”

The other three captains approached the closet door, Terushima in the lead, all three grinning.

“Nope,” Shirabu said, veering out of Terushima’s trajectory. “You’ve already exceeded the limits of my patience for today. Try again tomorrow.”

Ennoshita waggled his eyebrows as Akaashi grudgingly rejoined him. “Nice of you to finally come out of the closet, Keiji.”

Akaashi stopped and looked at him. “Babe. With all due respect, shut up.”

Futakuchi welcomed Yahaba with a matching smug grin on his face. “Another job well done. You going to tell me how you actually got into that closet without them knowing?”

“It’s amazing the places you can get by offering free sex,” Yahaba brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Excuse me?” Futakuchi laughed nervously.

Yahaba chuckled. “I’m playing, Kenji. A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“So you... didn’t have sex with anyone? How would that even help you get into a supply closet?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out next time you’re guarding a supply closet that I want in to.”

“Please tell me you’re joking right now... Akaashi and Shirabu wouldn’t even _want_ to tap that.”

“Hey! Guys, listen up!” Ennoshita clapped his hands loudly, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Team members coming in from lunch in T-minus 4 minutes, 37 seconds!” Terushima reported, grabbing Shirabu’s phone out of his pocket to look at the time.

“Stop! Touching me!” Shirabu glared and stole his phone back.

Ennoshita ignored the bickering and nodded at Futakuchi.

The wing spiker smirked and slung a bag off his shoulder, distributing neatly folded clothing to his fellow captains.

“What the hell is this!?” Shirabu yelled when a soft wad of sea-foam green was shoved into his hands.

Futakuchi winked. “If you get it dirty, he’ll probably kill you. Play safe!”

Akaashi looked at the white t-shirt and yellow shorts he was left holding. “You’re kidding me right now...”

Terushima laughed, tugging off the red t-shirt he’d worn before practice and replacing it with a light gray one. “Man, Kenji, I don’t look good in your colors,” he whined, changing into dark teal shorts as well.

“Hey, at least you get to be colorful,” Kenji complained, struggling into Karasuno’s black and white practice uniform. “Chikara, what size do you wear? I feel like I’m already losing circulation in my arms and legs.”

Ennoshita chuckled. “Sorry you got stuck with my team, Kenji. Luck of the draw.”

Shirabu watched silently as Ennoshita donned the black t-shirt and white and purple shorts of Shiratorizawa’s practice uniform, a relatively comfortable fit. “How did you get my clothing?”

“Oh please, you think your boyfriend doesn’t know your locker combination?” Yahaba said, taking out his phone and using the front camera to examine himself in Fukurodani’s dark blue and white practice clothes.

“You look pretty good in that, Shi,” Kenji commented. “Navy is your color.”

Yahaba smirked. “Every color is my color, Kenji, haven’t you learned anything?”

Futakuchi took one of his boyfriend’s hands. “Well, you look ready to captain one of Tokyo’s best teams!”

“Hope you’ve been preparing to get your ass handed to you then. Akaashi, has Karasuno ever beat your team?”

Chikara smiled. “Not as of yet.”

“Well, that’s about to change,” Kenji argued. “They’ve got an unknown variable with them today.”

“Yeah? And so does Fukurodani,” Yahaba shot back.

“We have to play with different teams?” Shirabu asked, looking back down at the light turquoise shirt and white shorts he was holding.

“Take good care of them for me!” Yahaba grinned, flashing Shirabu a peace sign. “Don’t let them get too rowdy on you.”

“You’re fucking kidding me!” Shirabu felt like he was going to blow a gasket. “I can’t work with them!”

“At least you’ll be playing your original position,” Akaashi pointed out.

Shirabu looked again over at Akaashi who was grudgingly changing into Johzenji’s uniform. If he was going to be replacing Terushima, he was going to need to play the role of wing spiker.

“You gonna be okay?” Terushima asked, grinning.

“I’m a decent spiker,” Akaashi replied. “I’m not you, though.”

“Well, not everyone can be me,” Terushima bragged. “Good luck with them! They can be a handful!”

Akaashi’s expression soured further.

“Kenjirou, you can stop with that about-to-commit-a-homicide look now please...” Terushima said quietly.

Shirabu blinked. “This is where I put my foot down. Give me back my team or put your life on the line.”

“It’s only for an hour or two,” Ennoshita reassured. “It’s really only for fun so you don’t need to worry about everything going to plan. It’s... teambuilding!”

Shirabu crossed his arms glumly. “Any team building I’ve ever done that involved you guys has never ended well. Remember that time you guys tried to get Yuuji and I to stop hating each other?”

Yahaba tilted his head. “I mean, technically, it worked almost perfectly.”

“That’s not the point. I suffered.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t _end_ badly, right?” Terushima placed his head on Shirabu’s shoulder.

“Yuuji?”

“Yes, Kenjirou?”

“Remind me to kick your ass later.”

Terushima pulled away quickly.

“You guys can be a happy young couple after practice,” Futakuchi said, rolling his eyes. “Just change clothes, Shirabu. You’ve got like 30 seconds before everyone else gets back in here and I’m sure you don’t want them to see you dressing.”

“I don’t have to do what you guys say,” Shirabu snarled.

Futakuchi looked bored. “Teru, ‘pants him.”

Terushima didn’t hesitate before reaching for the waistband of Shirabu’s track pants.

Shirabu batted him away. “Okay, okay! I’m changing! Fuck off!” He hurried to change into Yahaba’s white shorts and wrestle the blue-green t-shirt on, noticing offhandedly how large it was on him and how the shorts uncomfortably sagged.

“Is this what goes on when you guys have ‘captains only’ lunches because I want in on that. Strip again, Shirabu.”

Futamata, Bobata, and a few other members of the Johzenji team had entered the large gymnasium and were still snickering at Shirabu.

“Don’t tease him, guys,” Terushima mediated, a smile still present on his face regardless. “He’s flustered enough already.”

“I’m not flustered!” Shirabu countered, even though he could feel how warm his face was.

All of the other members of the six teams had begun filtering back into the gymnasium.

Yahaba grinned and cupped his hands around his mouth to shout. “Welcome back from lunch, guys. We’re going to get a lot done this afternoon, but we’re also going to have some fun! Find the captain that belongs to _your team_.”

There was a bit of hesitation and confusion among the players for a moment until they eventually began to catch on.

Shirabu turned to Yahaba. “I will ask one more time, no, I’ll _beg_ you. I don’t want to do this.”

“Are you afraid of getting in trouble or something?” Yahaba asked, practically sparkling with excitement.

“No. Just let me switch. I’ll take Johzenji from Akaashi. I’ll play as a wing spiker, I’m literally volunteering to put up with Johzenji, I don’t care, I will take any of these teams. I just don’t want yours.”

Yahaba’s easy grin turned into a sneer. “You have something against my team?”

“Not personally, but they have something against me. Our teams haven’t gotten along in years.”

Yahaba’s grin returned. “You afraid they’ll eat you alive if you’re left alone with them?”

Shirabu glared. “No! I just don’t think it’s going to work out very well!”

“Just think of this as your opportunity to bridge the gap between our teams. It’ll be great.”

Shirabu gritted his teeth. Yahaba’s carefree smirk was only infuriating him even more. “I highly doubt I’ll be able to accomplish that. Give me my team back or you’ll be bedridden for the rest of this training camp.”

Yahaba grinned wider and took a step back. “Is that a threat, Shirabu? I can tell you right now, you’re not improving your image in my team’s eyes right now.”

Shirabu turned to see the entire Aoba Jousai club watching him, completely unamused. He sighed and walked toward the group, doing his best to still look confident. This team was used to exceptional setters and he could meet that expectation, so he could only hope to earn their respect on the court.

 

« »

 

“Hey, dudes. What’s poppin’?” Terushima waved casually as he merged with the blob of Datekou players.

The looks he got in return were a mix of eager anticipation and absolute dread. Johzenji and Datekou had had one practice match earlier in the year and the afternoon had ended when the fire department needed to be called. The incident hadn’t been specifically anyone’s fault, but there were a few club members that still dreaded any time their captains met.

“Hi T-Terushima-san,” responded Koganegawa shakily, being the one who had come closest to being set on fire months prior.

“‘Sup, Adidas!” Terushima put his hand up for a high five, which the setter returned very hesitantly.

“Terushima-san, no more baking flour,” Sakunami stepped forward to say firmly, his arms crossed.

Terushima couldn’t help smiling. “Okay, listen, we were legitimately just going to do some friendly team baking. I didn’t know flour is flammable either. Besides, none of that today. Just some good fun and practice matches. Should we start by stretching? I’m not all that flexible so you guys are going to be the experts here.” He dropped into a perfect splits, grinning the whole time at the nervous and annoyed looks he was getting from his best friend’s team. This was going to be even more fun than he’d been anticipating.

“Is this an all day thing or when do we get Futakuchi back...?” Onagawa asked slowly.

 

« »

 

“You! What have you done with Ennoshita-san!”

Futakuchi rolled his eyes. “Hinata. Cool your jets, little dude. Were you not listening when we explained that we’re swapping captains for a few hours?”

“Do we have to take orders from you or are you just a figurehead?” Nishinoya asked, leaping forward to point warningly at Futakuchi.

“Yeah, we take orders from no one but Chikara!” Tanaka rushed ahead to get in Futakuchi’s face as well.

Futakuchi rolled his eyes. “Uh. I am Ennoshita. Can’t you see? I’m wearing his extremely tight-fitting clothes.”

“Who do you think you’re fooling!” Hinata jumped in again. “I can see right through you!”

Futakuchi sighed. “I... Do you people not know what a joke is? Warm-up, everyone. If that’s a clear enough instruction.”

The rest of Karasuno’s players obediently began warming up, though Tanaka, Noya, and Hinata continued to question Futakuchi’s authority.

Futakuchi leaned over to talk to a second-year who was slightly calmer. “...Yamaguchi, correct?”

The second-year nodded vigorously, his brown hair bouncing slightly as he moved.

“Considering that the vice-captain and the ‘official unofficial vice vice-captain’ —as Ennoshita puts it— are the ones screaming at me,” Futakuchi gestured to Tanaka and Noya respectively, “who do I go to to control you people. Ennoshita must be one hell of a captain to maintain discipline over this group.”

Yamaguchi nodded again. “Ask Narita or Kinoshita for help if you need it. They’re a little more under control and the others listen to them.”

“Thanks.” Futakuchi looked back at the group then raised his voice. “Hey, dipshits, eyes on me!”

The group fell silent.

“Just cooperate for a little while, we’ll kick some ass, everything will be fine, just roll with this, okay? Just know that I don’t captain like Ennoshita does. Annoying people get penalties. No trial by jury, guilty until proven innocent. So here’s a tip. Stop annoying me.”

“Chikara’s still nicer than you,” Nishinoya shot back quietly, crossing his arms.

 

« »

 

Ennoshita suddenly understood why Shirabu wanted to be taller so badly. He was very glad that he had a few actually short players on his team to glorify his own average height.

“Alright, guys,” Ennoshita greeted his temporary team warmly as they all automatically began stretching. “I’ll do my best for you, but I’m not a setter and I definitely wouldn’t be as good as Shirabu anyway. I’m looking forward to getting to work with all of you guys and getting to know you!”

“Karasuno’s style is more quicks and tricks.” Sagae, a third-year wing spiker, immediately started strategizing.

“Even if it’s not what we’re used to, we can adjust to Ennoshita-san’s preferred playing style, right?” Goshiki agreed.

Shibata waved at his fellow spiker. “Sagae, quicks are your special move. Can we rely on you to take most of the balls?”

“Of course. None of us are going to have any trouble with this, but I will do my very best to be dependable.”

“I’ll try to stick closer to the front lines to save blocked spikes and help out if you guys need!” Akakura volunteered.

Kawanishi scoffed. “You guys don’t need to take this so seriously. It’s just for fun.”

“This is fun,” Goshiki said, tilting his head curiously. “Learning to make do with what we have? It’s a good challenge for all of us and we’re still going to come out on top even without Shirabu-san!”

“Okay, but you guys are making Ennoshita nervous.”

Ennoshita blinked out of his trace and smiled, putting his hands out and shaking his head. “No! It’s fine, really!! I’m just not used to having a team so... calculating.”

“It’s what we do.” Kawanishi smiled faintly. “Intense force and all that.”

Ennoshita smiled. “I like it. You guys seem like a really cohesive team. I’ll enjoy being here with you as long as there are no hard feelings after last year’s Spring High.”

“None from us. We respect a good opponent!” Goshiki inserted, making Ennoshita smile.

 

« »

 

Shirabu was almost unable to relax at all. He could feel the rivalry between Shiratorizawa and Aoba Jousai every time someone ran up to spike his tosses. He spent the first few minutes of drills trying every style he could come up with, watching his players and trying to pick up on what they responded best to. He wasn’t sure exactly how Yahaba handled his players, but he supposed he could figure out individual players the same way he did for his own team.

A figure whipped past him as the ball went up and it was immediately slammed back into the floor so hard that Shirabu could feel it. It was also completely out of bounds.

“Uh,” Shirabu looked at the third year spiker. “That was impressive, Kyoutani. If you can get some more control behind your swing, you could be a real force to be reckoned with.”

“Not good enough for your standards, I see,” remarked Kindaichi who had been eyeing the stand-in captain the entire time.

Shirabu narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what I said! There’s room for improvement obviously, but he has great power. It was an amazing spike!”

“Are you going to stalk him and try and get him to come to Shiratorizawa too?”

“Excuse me?” Shirabu took a step forward, glaring. “If you want to spread false rumors and drama, be my guest. But do not let it interfere on this court. I don’t want to be here either, but at least I’m mature enough to be civil about it.”

Kunimi tapped Kindaichi’s shoulder. “Don’t fight him. He didn’t do anything to you.”

Kindaichi bit his lip, ignoring his friend. “I don’t need to be here. None of us should be. We’re not friends with your team. The only reason we’re in your gymnasium right now is because our captain is dating Futakuchi who’s friends with your boyfriend who knows you’re enough of a pushover that he can invite whoever he wants!”

“Call me a pushover again and I’ll be calling you an ambulance if you get my jist!”

A hand closed over Shirabu’s shoulder and flung him away from Kindaichi.

Shirabu stumbled and looked up at Kyoutani’s glare. He hadn’t known he was actually loyal to his teammates to the point he would defend them like that.

Out of nowhere, a hand came up and smacked the back of Kindaichi’s head.

“Play nice,” Yahaba flicked Kyoutani’s forehead for good measure too. “You people take this rivalry too seriously. Just chill out and listen to authority for once in your life. I have my own team to captain right now so if I have to step in again, I’m going to be pissed.”

Yahaba stepped back toward Fukurodani and smacked Shirabu’s arm. “You too. Stop being a jackass to my son.”

“Your son.” Shirabu glared. “Fuck off, Yahaba.”

“Have fun getting beat up then. See if I care.” Yahaba waved over his shoulder.

 

« »

 

“Alright, I’m back, sorry for that. I think Shiratorizawa would’ve been angry if my ace offed their setter,” Yahaba said cheerfully to the Fukurodani players, making slashing motions across his throat. “Should we get back to running drills before we start practice matches? I know I’ll never be able to do what Akaashi does for you guys but I like to think I’m alright at figuring out what you guys are going to want from me.”

No one said anything.

“O-okay, should we just keep doing spiking practice or do you guys have something else you’d like to work on while we have the chance?”

Again, no response.

Yahaba hadn’t really gotten any of them to talk to him so far but they had been working on practice spikes for several minutes and he had assumed they would start to open up to him once they bonded over the game they all loved.

“Seriously, do you guys even talk?” Yahaba asked, slightly annoyed at the lack of response he was getting. Personally, he figured he was probably one of the top setters in the world in the history of ever and there was no reason for these Tokyo kids to be treating him like he wasn’t anything to freak out about.

Yahaba sighed and got back onto the court. “Okay guys, let’s go.”

The club members snapped into action, performing the drills with the same incredible accuracy and precision that they had been all day.

Yahaba couldn’t help but be a tiny bit impressed by the game sense they appeared to have even while staying completely silent like this.

“Okay, pause!” Yahaba said, breathing hard and looking out at his temporary team with pleasure. “You guys are good, I’ll give you that. I can see how this team has such a great streak of making it to nationals. But when you’re in a real game, do you guys talk? It’s really hard to play volleyball without communicating. I’m going to need you guys to contribute a little more or these practice matches aren’t going to end in our favor.”

One of the club members raised his hand hesitantly.

“This isn’t a classroom, you little weirdo. You can say whatever you want to.”

“Um... Akaashi-san usually does all that. We make our best judgments of where to be to spike and he calls out who he’s going to throw to or he just decides.”

Yahaba frowned. “Why?”

“Because he has better game sense than the rest of us. He’s the only one who was on the starting lineup last year. We all know where we need to be, but he’s the one who makes all the decisions. He’s better at that than the rest of us.”

“What are the first and second years of you guys going to do next year when Akaashi graduates? You can’t just rely on him.”

The young student smiled. “We know how to do it ourselves. But it’s disarming for the opponent when we’re silent. They look scared. It’s funny.”

Yahaba felt a shiver trace its way down his spine. The chilling smile all the students had adopted paired with the sinister words unsettled Yahaba.

“Did Akaashi teach you guys to be creepy as fuck or did you figure out how to do that yourselves?”

“Oh, it’s all of us. Just follow our lead in the practice games and we’ll be fine. You won’t be as good as Akaashi-san, but you’ll do for now.”

 

« »

 

Akaashi was seconds away from walking out of the gym. He knew that by accepting the invitation to come to the training camp hosted by Shiratorizawa, he risked even more of his sanity that he did every time he hung out with the other captains, but he still couldn’t deal with everything going on around him. He had been through water fights, prank wars, bad ghost stories, and a hundred other terrible things at these camps, but this had to be the worst thing yet.

“Guys, you need to focus just a little bit, please,” Akaashi said quietly for the fifteenth time in as many minutes.

“On it, boss!” Higashiyama cried, bumping the ball toward Futamata.

“Send it here, bro!” Numajiri said, running up to spike.

Though he knew his outsider’s chances of ever being included in this apparent playtime were slim, Akaashi ran up to the net anyway, jumping to decoy. He’d already demonstrated that his spikes were obviously inferior to the other wing spikers on the team and also that he held zero control over these players. Terushima was full of stories of his team and Akaashi had always wondered exactly how the unlikely team dynamic exactly worked. Apparently, that would remain a mystery that Akaashi might not be able to solve.

“Sneak attack!” Futamata yelled, grinning and tossing the ball to Akaashi.

Akaashi let out an unplanned-for noise of surprise and flailed slightly, clumsily hitting the ball over the net.

The other players laughed and a few of them clapped him on the back.

Izaka grinned. “Not bad, not bad! We’ll make you one of us in no time!”

“I don’t think I want to be one of you,” Akaashi muttered under his breath.

“What if during the practice matches, we have to go up against Datekou and Teru! How awesome is it going to be if we kick his ass!!”

“We’re structuring the practice matches so the captains have to face their teams. Apparently, it’s good teambuilding and it’ll be a way to see your captain from a different perspective. Apparently. I didn’t make these plans. We’re only playing to 15 points though so figure something out quickly.”

Tsuchiyu jumped up and down. “This is going to be awesome! Akaashi, we can use you as our ultimate secret weapon then! Teru knows all of us but he doesn’t know your style! We’re going to use you for every play!”

“Please don’t do that,” Akaashi said, putting a hand to his temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming from all the yelling in his ear. “That wouldn’t make much sense logistically. They’d figure it out quickly and I’m really not the best spiker.”

“Oh, we’ll figure something out, won’t we,” Futamata said, clapping their secret weapon on the back again forcefully.

 

« »

 

Terushima let the easy smile play over his face as he looked across the net at one of his best friends. “You ready to meet a whole different side of your team, Kenji?”

Futakuchi smirked. “If there’s anyone who can take them down, you know it’s me. I’ve got a few movers and shakers of my own over here. Has anyone figured out how to stop Kageyama and Hinata’s super quick yet? Because it feels really good to be on the same side of the net as that.”

“Bring it. We’re ready for you!”

The whistle blew and Futakuchi hit the first serve over the net.

The Datekou players seemed content to let Terushima take the lead and perform plays as he wanted to. He would’ve loved a bit more support from his new team, but he also understood their hesitation to follow his lead anymore. The first toss came to him and he watched the ball carefully. It was slightly beyond the zone he would’ve liked the best, but it was also on the perfect trajectory to fool the block.

Terushima had no problem hitting the imperfect toss and the first point was scored effortlessly.

Koganegawa looked hopefully at Terushima, a small smile on his face.

Terushima cheered and stuck his tongue out at Futakuchi.

“C’mon guys, keep it together,” Futakuchi warned the Karasuno players. “Considering who we’re up again, just default to ‘expect the unexpected’ or we’re going to get our asses handed to us!”

Terushima saw the attack coming before it happened but there was still very little he could’ve done to stop Hinata’s spike. Fortunately, he had at his disposal some of the best blockers in the prefecture.

Aone and Fukiage were on top of it in an instant, shutting the hit out.

Nishinoya dove forward and barely sent the ball spinning back into the air. But it was up.

“Give it here!” Futakuchi yelled, lining himself up for the spike. He wasn’t sure if he would actually get a chance to spike since Karasuno seemed exclusively loyal to each other, but he’d be nothing if he didn’t try.

Sighing in relief, Futakuchi saw the ball come toward him. Datekou however, thought that it would be going back to Hinata. That was their flaw, Kenji pondered, jumping. They fixated on one threat and didn’t consider anything else.

The ball hit Datekou’s court with a satisfying smack and Futakuchi grinned as he landed.

“What, you forgot I’m here too?” he taunted. “Who would’ve thought that the biggest threat you’ve faced all season would be your own captain.”

Obara whispered something to Onagawa who snickered. Futakuchi pretended he hadn’t heard them.

“That was cool!” Terushima yelled. “I’m gonna beat that though!”

Futakuchi put his hands on his hips, smirking. “Good luck. No one beats me at my game.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got your team and it’s gonna be great! I love your team!”

The rest of Datekou did not look like they felt similarly.

“You handle Koganegawa’s tosses well,” Futakuchi admitted.

“Oh, I love his tosses! I never really know where they’re going to be, but that’s what makes it exciting!”

Koganegawa looked at Futakuchi. “Was that a compliment? I can’t tell.”

“Just... Keep working on the things I told you about,” Kenji replied, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly.

They got back into formation for the next play.

Sakunami received the serve with little difficulty and with Terushima’s excited screaming, Koganegawa sent the ball his way again.

“I’m going to out-spike Kenji!” Terushima cried as he smacked the ball as hard as he could.

He wasn’t the only one to hit the ground a second later. Terushima’s eyes widened as he looked across the court.

Terushima had spiked all the way to the back line with no resistance until Kenji had tried to receive it. “Tried” being the key word.

Eyes widening, Terushima ducked under the net and sprinted to his friend.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Futakuchi promised, keeping one hand over his face. He held the other one out for Terushima to help him up.

Terushima took one look at the sticky, red mess on his friend's hand and moved behind Futakuchi to lift him up from under his arms, snickering. “Okay, big guy. Take it easy. I spiked into your face, might've broken something, not a big deal. Stand up, there ya go.”

“Why the hell would you do that to me, you fucktard!?”

Terushima laughed. “Sorry, babe. Too hard to resist the chance to put you in your place. Who's a better spiker now?”

“I am!” Futakuchi spat, swiping the back of his hand across his face. “Because I know how to not hit my friends in the face!”

“Uh. Sorry?” Terushima bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Futakuchi looked at his hands then back up at Terushima. “How bad is it?”

“Not awful. You're probably still pretty enough for Yahaba.”

“Shut up, he loves me no matter what.”

“Go clean up. Or don't actually, it looks really badass and you could look really intimidating for the next match.”

“Oh, screw off. I'm going to keep playing. I'm not disabled.”

“Uh, not to alarm you, but I don't think your team wants to finish the game. They don't look like they want to be within a ten-meter radius of me ever again.”

Futakuchi looked over at his teammates and the looks of horror on their faces. Funnily enough, he'd seen looks exactly like that on their faces before, the last time they'd been with Terushima and they’d nearly burned a building down. Warming up before the practice matches had gone well enough but maybe it was just when he and Terushima were together that things ended badly. No matter what, neither Datekou nor Karasuno standing behind Futakuchi looked keen on finishing the match. Futakuchi’s temporary team looked pretty horrified as well.

“You better give them a pep talk or something before you have to face Ennoshita and Shiratorizawa. I'm not sure they think you're a good enough spiker if you're going to receive balls with your face.”

“Yeah well, you better reassure _your_ team that you're fit to lead!”

“Don't yell at me while you're the one with a busted face! It looks dumb!

“Well, who's fault is that!”

“Let me walk you to the bathroom to get cleaned up then!”

“Okay!”

Both looked at each other, smirking suddenly.

“You know this means you have to let me spike a ball into your face to make us even, Futakuchi said, strolling toward the bathroom with Terushima.

“Oh, I'd like to see you try.”

The remaining players on the court looked at each other.

“Can we all agree that they both suck?” Onagawa suggested.

Everyone nodded in unison.

 

« »

 

Meanwhile, on an adjacent court, another battle was being fought.

“Hey. Why do you suck?”

Shirabu turned around and glared. “Excuse me?”

Kunimi didn’t look amused. “Are you being awful on purpose to let your team win?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Shirabu rolled his eyes and looked across the court to Ennoshita leading Shiratorizawa.

Ennoshita put up a hand and smiled at Shirabu. “It’s okay. Cool off.”

“If you guys could just spike my tosses without questioning it or making some comment about Yahaba, we might actually score some more points.” Shirabu got back into position as the next play started.

Ennoshita listened in on the quiet talking behind him on his side of the court. Being amongst Shiratorizawa was an experience. They knew exactly how to handle any situation and Ennoshita barely felt like he had to do any thinking. Even playing a different position than he was used to, he really wasn’t as stressed as he thought he would be. Even though Karasuno had won against them the previous year, Ennoshita could clearly see the difference in how the two teams held themselves.

The ball came smoothly to Ennoshita and he answered Goshiki’s calls and tossed the ball to him.

Shirabu knew his players well enough to know exactly what was coming. Contrary to the belief of the Seijou players, he wouldn’t sabotage the game in Shiratorizawa’s favor because of anything silly like pride. If anything, it would say more about him as an individual if he could win on this clearly inferior team.

He jumped to block Goshiki’s spike and the ball smacked against his hands and fell back to the other side of the court.

Akakura dove forward to save it and Shirabu couldn’t help but feel a little proud of the professional-grade save.

Shibata picked it up and turned it into an overhead toss to Ennoshita.

Ennoshita grinned as he jumped and spiked straight onto Seijou’s court.

“You see that?” Shirabu said quietly. “If you guys could trust me like that, we wouldn’t do half bad but you hesitate every toss I give you.”

“Just play the game,” Kunimi said, rolling his eyes. “None of us hate you. We don’t need your commentary.”

“Guys, please stop arguing. This shouldn’t be this difficult.” Watari rubbed his hand over his face in exasperation. There had yet to be a play that hadn’t been followed with bickering.

Shiratorizawa served and Watari picked it up cleanly, passing directly to Shirabu.

The stand-in setter glanced around to chose his options. The block was solid no matter where he tossed, so he really needed to try and power through it if they were going to score this point.

Kyoutani was ready for him, already mid-jump when Shirabu tossed the ball to him.

The boom as the ball struck the court was incredible.

“Nice one, Kyoutani,” Shirabu commented, hoping to avoid any conflict. The spike hadn’t had any accuracy and it was probably just luck that had kept it from being received. He wasn’t about to say that though.

“Good enough for you yet?” Kyoutani asked under his breath.

Shirabu glared. He could be civil, but he wouldn’t stand for insubordination. This would never happen on his own team.

“No, not really, but I’ll let you do what you want since you don’t seem to care what I think anyway.”

Kyoutani glared silently and turned his back.

“I’m talking to you! Do you just turn your back when Yahaba says something to you?”

“Yes. And he lets me because that’s how I work.”

“Yeah, well, we all know Yahaba’s scared of you anyway.”

Kyoutani grabbed the front of Shirabu’s t-shirt.

Shirabu threw a punch.

Within seconds, both were on the floor and members of both teams were running forward to split them up.

Ennoshita dragged Kyoutani off of Shirabu while Kawanishi helped his setter to his feet.

“You’re bleeding,” Kawanishi commented quietly.

Shirabu looked down and saw the red lines on his arm, barely oozing blood, but still, a little torn up. “Did you fucking scratch me?” he asked angrily.

Kyoutani huffed but didn’t say anything. He broke away quickly from Ennoshita and returned to his team, only having been punched in the stomach once.

Ennoshita turned his attention to Shirabu tugging him gently toward the bathroom. “Hey. Go clean up.”

“I’m fine,” Shirabu grumbled, smearing his hand through the small mess and leaving a streak of blood up his arm.

“Whatever,” Ennoshita rolled his eyes, planting his hands on Shirabu’s shoulders and pushing him off the court.

Kindaichi was busy eyeing down the rest of the Shiratorizawa players. “Anyone else want to try and tear us down unfairly?”

“Um,” Goshiki said, stepping forward hesitantly. “None of us are mad at you... Shirabu-san isn’t either, he’s just... Shirabu-san...”

“Then get out of our faces every time we see each other!”

“We’re not in your face,” Kawanishi inserted. “I don’t feel anything for you guys but friendly rivalry.”

Watari stepped in, skeptically watching the reactions of the Shiratorizawa players. “What he’s trying to say is that our senpais—”

“Does it really matter?” Sagae interrupted.

“I don’t believe it has to,” Watari agreed. “Isn’t that why all our captains started hanging out? Yahaba said it started with him and Ennoshita-san.”

Kawanishi nodded. “Kenjirou said that too. We all face each other on the court and we have close rivalries. In the past, we’ve all taken that a bit too personally. So really, this is probably a good thing for all of us.”

“Shirabu is trying to make us lose so you can win,” Kindaichi fought back.

Kunimi rolled his eyes. “No, he’s not. You’re just no good at hitting his tosses.”

“Well, then he’s a shitty setter.”

“If anyone might be evenly matched with Shigeru, it’s him,” Kyoutani said quietly, drawing everyone’s surprised attention. “That doesn’t mean I like him or his tosses.” The spiker crossed his arms and turned away.

“So next time we play each other in a tournament, it’s going to be amazing, right?” Akakura spoke up.

“Yeah!” Goshiki shot a fist into the air. “It’s going to be legendary!”

Kunimi smacked Kindaichi’s shoulder.

Kindaichi shrugged reluctantly. “If... If that’s what Yahaba-san believes in, then I guess we can be friends. Can we still hate Shirabu though?”

“Go for it. We all hate him too,” Kawanishi said, rolling his eyes.

 

« »

 

Yahaba tossed another ball and watched it get spiked to the other side of the net. And yet with every passing second, he felt his stress levels rising. He was just throwing tosses. He was just playing his game, but he felt like he was playing it alone. The Fukurodani players were all playing around him, but they’d only spoken a few words the entire practice match.

When Yahaba threw a toss, he had no idea if anyone was even going for it. They always did, but he couldn’t help the mounting anxiety. He needed to be in control of the court at all times and he had almost none of that here. If they didn’t communicate, how could he coordinate attacks?

Akaashi was watching from the opposite side of the court with amusement. The strategy to remain mostly silent was aimed usually at the opponent, but it looked like it was confusing Yahaba more than anyone else.

Most of that could be attributed to the fact that Johzenji didn’t seem to give a care who was spiking or where. They didn’t plan their defense, just relied on reflex to dive across the court to pick up balls whenever they could.

As much as Akaashi was unsettled by the chaos taking place on these two courts, he felt himself smiling. He had never personally faced Johzenji in a real game, but he could only imagine the feeling of being across the net from them. They were their own kind of unexpected and they didn’t even entirely stick to the rules of volleyball. The rules that would get them penalties, they followed, but all the ones that were a little more lenient, they had no problem breaking.

Akaashi was given a fair few shots at setting throughout the match as well as a few other members spontaneously. Everyone reacted so quickly to improvised strategies, that Akaashi was surprised there weren’t more accidental mishaps. Upon closer inspection, he supposed his team gave off the same impression, cloaked in the mystery of silence. There were two different kinds of chaos here, one just a little more visibly crazy.

The Fukurodani players seemed surprised every time Akaashi spiked and he grinned a little wider each time. His role lay with setting, that he knew, but spiking was a skill none of his players had really witnessed from him before and they knew nothing of his style, primitive though it was.

As the match progressed, both teams were about evenly matched. He wasn’t sure how they would measure up if each group had their preferred captain back, but that was a hypothetical he didn’t have time to worry about at the moment.

Yahaba was having a hard time controlling his breathing. This wasn’t the natural form of volleyball he was used to playing. He usually felt so at home on a court being the control tower for a skilled team, but when he looked over the court, Akaashi looked like he was more relaxed playing an unfamiliar position.

He sent the other captain a glare of barely restrained rage. He would learn how to control this team how he wanted by the end of this match or die trying.

Akaashi was almost on the verge of actually laughing. Yahaba looked pissed. The ball was on their side of the court and Akaashi was getting ready to jump a block.

“Toss to the left,” Akaashi said loudly.

Yahaba followed the command and they scored a point since the block was weak on that side of the court.

Yahaba’s glare soured. “Excuse me?”

“You look a little lost,” Akaashi snickered.

Yahaba rolled his eyes and kept playing.

Akaashi told him how to set the next toss as well.

When the ball came back over to Johzenji’s side of the court, Yahaba yelled, “Toss to the right!”

Akaashi laughed as he was tossed the ball from his spot on the right side of the court. He spiked and smirked at Yahaba.

Yahaba ducked under the net and looked Akaashi straight in the eye.

“What are you doing, Yahaba?” Akaashi asked mildly.

“Me? What are _you_ doing?” You can’t just tell me how to toss. I’m going to do it to you if you do it to me.”

“Do you want to just switch teams back if you can’t handle it?”

“No! That’s not the point of the game!” Yahaba snapped.

“This was your idea, remember.” Akaashi picked at a fingernail. “I didn’t even want to be a part of this.”

“Shut up!”

“I said this wasn’t a good idea but you didn’t listen, did you.”

“I said shut up! You don’t have to rub it in! Your team is impossible!”

“Yeah, but you nailed the team-building goal.”

“What?”

Akaashi gestured over Yahaba’s shoulders where the Johzenji and Fukurodani players had all congregated and were talking amiably.

“You guys are like, super cool!” Higashiyama told Fukurodani. “I have no idea what you guys are even doing half the time!”

“We don’t really either!” said one of Fukurodani’s second years. “But I think it’s cool too.”

“I’m going to talk to Teru and make sure we get to face you guys as whole teams at some point during this training camp because you guys are the coolest!”

“This excuses nothing,” Yahaba hissed, focused back on Akaashi.

“Someone’s a sore loser,” Akaashi commented.

“This isn’t even my team! We didn’t even finish the match— wait, we didn’t finish the match. You can’t stop a game in the middle.”

“You’re the one who stopped it.”

“It was supposed to be a momentary pause so I could yell in your face and then we could finish winning.”

“Well, do you want to gather everyone back up and finish it out?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Is there a problem then?”

“Yes. There are many problems with everything going on here right now.”

Akaashi wondered if Johzenji’s ever-present good mood was rubbing off on him but he couldn’t stop smiling. “What are you going to do about it then?”

Yahaba crossed his arms and turned away. “Probably have an aneurysm and die.”

“You’re more impossible than my team.”

“I try.” Yahaba resisted the temptation to flip Akaashi off as he walked away.

“Where are you going?” Akaashi asked, shaking his head slightly.

“If I’m going to die, I’m going to do so in Kenji’s arms. He might laugh at me, but it’s still worth it.”

“Hey, cap!” Bobata yelled over to Akaashi, making him turn.

“If Yahaba’s going to rage quit, can you just captain both of our teams for the rest of the afternoon?” Futamata suggested.

Akaashi shrugged and walked back over to them. “Sure. Why not.”

 

« »

 

Ennoshita had been on a roll. Even though the match he and the rest of the Shiratorizawa team had played again Seijou and Shirabu hadn’t ever actually ended, he’d exited the bathroom with his fellow captain to find both teams chatting amiably. When he’d regrouped with Shiratorizawa, they seemed pleased about making nice with Aoba Jousai and eager for another match.

They’d been very responsive to him as a setter and as a spiker and Ennoshita honestly felt like they would take care of anything that went wrong on the court and he just needed to be there to reinforce them.

However, Ennoshita wasn’t entirely confident that the same level of cohesiveness would be maintained when they played against Karasuno. He’d seen it on Shirabu’s face how hard it was to play against your own team when the opposition knew exactly what moves you were going to try and pull.

The only advantage he might have was in playing setter. As long as he relied on Shiratorizawa, they’d score the points for him.

Futakuchi stood confidently on the other side of the net with the less-confident-looking Karasuno starting players behind him.

“Ready for this?” Ennoshita asked excitedly.

“Born ready.” Futakuchi tossed his hair. “These guys beat Shiratorizawa before, I figure they can do it again.”

Ennoshita just smirked and got into position to start the match.

The first few volleys went off without a hitch and it was looking like it was going to be a close match.

Futakuchi bit his lip in concentration, spiking several balls successfully in a row. He didn’t care whose team he was on; he was going to win either way. He’d gotten himself cleaned up after the disaster that was his previous match and was instantly even more fired up to play on.

He yelled encouragements to his teammates and urged them to play even harder. There was a fire inside him that wouldn’t stop until they had scored all the points and kept Shiratorizawa from making any headway.

Unfortunately, Shiratorizawa was not known across the country for no reason. They were unfazed by Futakuchi’s yelling or by Karasuno’s attempts at taking the lead.

Ennoshita fell into a natural rhythm, choosing who would be spiking his tosses strategically, based on what he figured his team would be doing.

His own team was easy enough to predict, but Futakuchi was a little less so. Ennoshita still didn’t have too much of a problem keeping the game running smoothly for Shiratorizawa. He could see almost instantly why Goshiki had been a regular the previous year and was now the ace. Karasuno’s match against Shiratorizawa at the Spring High tournament had been exciting to watch, but it was a completely different experience being on the court with players Ennoshita couldn’t describe as anything but powerful.

Futakuchi was still yelling for every move Karasuno made, whether it be good, bad, or ugly and Ennoshita could see the other players eyeing him.

Not long into the game, they paused between plays and a first year raised his hand.

“What’s up?” Futakuchi asked, breathing hard.

“Can I switch to Ennoshita’s team? They seem nicer.”

Ennoshita almost laughed out loud.

Futakuchi scowled. “If you wanted nice, you should’ve joined the Girl Scouts, not the volleyball club.”

“Yeah but... I want Ennoshita-san back.”

“Tough. I want my team back. You all are a bunch of pansies who go crying back to your mother over there when you think you’re going to lose.”

“We probably are going to lose,” Yamaguchi added hesitantly, gesturing at the scoreboard.

“Does it matter? That’s the point of this exercise anyway; play with some different people and see your captain from a different angle. For fun. Winning isn’t everything, you little cumquat. It’s about having fun and being a team player.”

“Better not tell your normal team that or they’ll all quit,” Tsukishima said drably. “I can’t imagine having you as a captain is a very enlightening experience.”

“Ennoshita-san is the best captain!” Hinata yelled, racing under the net and standing behind his captain.

Ennoshita blushed. “Hinata, I appreciate this, but just go play. It’s like Futakuchi said. This game is just for fun. Just go with it, alright?”

By that point, a few other members had switched sides of the net and Ennoshita sighed.

Futakuchi glowered. “Well, fine. I’ll go find a team that loves me.”

Ennoshita rolled his eyes. “Come on, Futakuchi. Don’t leave. We have to finish the game.”

“Are you going to let all your children cower in your arms if we keep playing? They’ve offended me and I’m not going to continue subjecting myself to this.”

“Dude, grow up.”

“Me? Grow up? How about them? You going to get your team under control? You can’t even argue that they’re younger. You’ve got a decent amount of third years over there with you acting like 6-year-olds.”

“Futakuchi, you’re not making any of them like you any more,” Ennoshita sighed again. “Just come over here and hang out with us. That’s what this all is turning into anyway.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to. Maybe you guys aren’t nice and I’m a pansy too.”

Ennoshita laughed. “You’re just going to admit that?”

“Absolutely not,” Futakuchi said, taking a few steps over to the larger group. “See this? Being strong. Hanging out with people you don’t like and who smell bad and who block like motherfuckers. This is why I’m superior to all of you.”

“Mhm,” Ennoshita said, putting his hand on Futakuchi’s shoulder and welcoming him into the group. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

 

« »

 

Yahaba was really just embarrassed by this point. His normal team was playing relatively well and they were watching him. With their eyes boring into his head, he felt every hesitation he made a hundred times more vividly. And there were a lot of hesitations.

Playing against Akaashi hadn’t gone well for him as his flaws as a leader were only accentuated by his difficulty managing the [not normal] team.

Now he had the people who knew him best watching his every move as he struggled to play like he normally did with a team that wouldn’t allow for that.

“You okay there?” Shirabu called from the opposite side of the court, a small smirk crossing his features.

Yahaba looked at him. He hadn’t messed up any tosses technically. Where he threw the ball, at least one of Fukurodani’s players was there to spike it. He hadn’t failed outright yet, but he felt like he could at any moment.

“I’m fine, are _you_ okay?” Yahaba responded, narrowing his eyes. “I’m surprised you’re still alive. You were so convinced you were going to die by the hands of my god-awful team.”

“Yeah, ask your ace about that one,” Shirabu grumbled, showing off the bandage around his arm where Kyoutani had scratched him slightly. “You’re a bit flushed though. Working too hard over there?”

“Absolutely not! I’m doing just fine!” Yahaba pressed his hand against his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if he was actually blushing like Shirabu had said or if the other setter was just trying to rile him up.

“I don’t know...” Kindaichi was smirking as well. “I think we can take him easy. He doesn’t look too sure of himself out there.”

“Excuse me!?” Yahaba exclaimed. “Whose side are you on!?”

Watari laughed. “Sorry, bud. Switching teams was your idea though.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to abandon me! Since when are you guys so buddy-buddy with Shirabu anyway?”

“Since about twenty minutes ago.” Kunimi shrugged. “Shiratorizawa’s not so bad. Shirabu isn’t exactly great moral fiber, but he’ll do for now.”

“Hey, watch it.” Shirabu smacked Kunimi’s back lightly.

“Will you guys just shut up and play!” Yahaba yelled.

Shirabu snickered. “You sure ‘shut up and play’ is what you want? That’s all Fukurodani does and you don’t seem particularly happy about it.”

“Oh, fuck you, Shirabu!” Yahaba said, blushing slightly as the Seijou players laughed at the joke.

“Does your boyfriend know about this? I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate you fucking me.”

A couple of the Fukurodani players laughed at that one as well.

“You.” Yahaba turned and pointed at his temporary team. “You people are allowed to make fun of me when and only when you actually start listening to me on the court. Not an instant sooner.”

“Yahaba-san, you never let us make fun of you either,” one of the Seijou first years complained.

“Shut up, you don’t listen to me on the court either.”

“Well, we do better than Fukurodani at least, right?”

“Barely. All you do is ask when Kenji and his team are coming to practice with us again.”

“I like practicing with Datekou.”

“That’s not the point of this argument!”

“Why are you arguing with your kouhai in the first place?” Shirabu sneered. “I never thought I’d see the day you diverted the topic of conversation away from Kenji. Would he be happy if I told him that?”

“Kenji’s not here right now and you can shut your ass-kissing mouth before I punch your teeth in!”

“I’ve already been in one fight today and I’m not afraid of another.”

“Then get your ass over here so I can decimate you!”

“Yahaba-san?”

Yahaba froze and looked at the blank looks his team was giving him.

“You’re mean sometimes...” said a first-year student nervously.

Yahaba’s features softened slightly. “I’m not like that to you guys, though. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Why are you so mean to Shirabu-san then?”

“Because we’re... friends?”

“Oh are we now?” Shirabu crossed his arms and grinned smugly. “Tell me more about what great friends we are.”

“Never talk to me again,” Yahaba hissed, turning his back and focusing back on Fukurodani.

“Are we going to start playing again?” a second year asked.

“Yes. We are. And we’re going to win this game.”

“Okay. Well. We’re going to try a new maneuver.”

“Awesome. What is it.”

“Oh, we can’t tell you. Just roll with it for now.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me right now.” Yahaba’s expression went completely blank.

“No, it’s fine, just do what you normally do and we’ll take care of everything, okay?”

“No, not okay. You people need to tell me what you’re doing before you do it.”

“Why?”

Yahaba couldn’t help stamp his foot a little bit. “Because I’m your setter! I need to be in on the plan! This isn’t how volleyball is supposed to be played!”

“Uh. Bump, set, spike.” A third-year gestured like it was obvious. “That’s how you play volleyball. Can you stop throwing a fit every time we—”

“Nope. I’m done.” Yahaba threw his hands in the air and stalked off the court.

Shirabu was laughing under his breath. “Where are you going, Yahaba? You’re abandoning your team. They need you.”

“Well, clearly they don’t actually need me since they’ve got everything under control by themselves.”

“You’re going to leave Seijou with me too?”

Yahaba stopped walking but didn’t turn around. “I’m done. I quit. See you guys again never.”

“You were the one who was so intent on finishing this match though.”

“Yeah, well. Sucks.”

“Yahaba, you’re being immature.”

“According to you every twenty minutes, that’s what I’m best at.”

“There’s a reason I say it every twenty minutes. It’s true.”

“Then why do you care.”

“I don’t. But your team is giving me puppy eyes.”

“Good. Adopt Fukurodani while you’re at it.”

“Yahaba.”

“What.”

“This was your idea, you know.”

“Do you have to rub that in? It was a good exercise.”

“It was. I’m just amused that you’re the one upset by the end of it.”

“Where was I? Oh yeah, I was quitting volleyball.” Yahaba flipped Shirabu off and took another step away.

“Just call surrender,” one of the Fukurodani players called out.

“Who am I surrendering to?”

“All of us,” Watari smirked.

“Oh, hell no.”

Shirabu smirked and high-fived the libero. “Well, yeah, you have to surrender the game to our side and you have to surrender to Fukurodani because they kicked your ass in a different way.”

“What happens if I don’t surrender?”

“I dunno, but I think at this moment I’m on better terms with your team than you are.”

“That’s pushing it,” Kunimi inserted. “But I also say Yahaba surrenders in order to be a part of our team again.”

Yahaba slouched. “You all suck, but fine, I surrender.”

“Oh, you also have to surrender to me,” Shirabu continued, examining his fingernails with a smug grin. “Since I said this was a bad idea from the start.”

“No, I’m drawing the line in the sand. No one else is getting anything else from me.”

 

« »

 

Akaashi’s vision seemed to lag slightly like the framerate of the entire world had dropped. He felt a little high on life in a way he hadn’t experienced before.

If he thought too hard about the chaos going on around him that was Johzenji, he probably would’ve gotten stressed out, so he chose not to concern himself too much with the antics.

Terushima seemed to be having a ball from the other side of the court as well. He was honestly a bit surprised at how well Akaashi was getting along with his team. The setter seemed to legitimately be having a good time with the chaotic bunch of teenagers.

Around Terushima, Datekou was still apparently a bit nervous to be playing with him, but the overall morale on the court had gotten better and Terushima could think of nothing more enjoyable than trash talking his own teammates and occasionally getting to score past them.

“What do you think of spiking, Akaashi?” Terushima asked between plays.

“It’s alright,” Akaashi replied, smiling. “It’s very exhilarating, so I can see why you would like it. You probably won’t be able to convert me though. Being setter is still the best role for me to play.”

“Ah, dang,” Terushima said, though he didn’t sound too concerned. “So close. What about the team? Will you be transferring to Johzenji for the remainder of the school year?”

Akaashi smirked. “Nice try. You can keep your disaster to yourself, thanks.”

Terushima shrugged. “Worth a shot. You’d learn some pretty cool trick shots though. We know all the best.”

“Oh yeah? Impress me then.” Akaashi knew that by challenging Terushima, he was signing himself up for one hell of a firework show, but with his mind still spinning and adrenaline still pounding through him, he wanted to see just what Johzenji was capable of.

“Okay,” Terushima said, smiling wide. “You have to spike first.”

“What are you doing...?”

“You’ll see! I’m going to turn your spike into my spike!”

Akaashi wasn’t sure exactly what to make of that, but the other Johzenji players were laughing and the Datekou team was putting more and more distance between them and their temporary captain.

Play resumed and Akaashi ran up to the net to spike the ball over. It wasn’t a great shot in the first place and when Terushima was right on the other side of the net to block, he figured he would just get shut out entirely.

Instead of just blocking, Terushima had his arm back and as soon as the ball crossed to his side of the net, he spiked it back down on Akaashi and Johzenji’s side of the net.

Akaashi was awed for a split second by just how unique the move was, but then the ball bounced hard on the floor and came back up to slam into one of the windows alongside the gymnasium.

The window was open and the ball hit the very edge of the pane.

Terushima landed and clasped his hands over his mouth, staring at the cracks in the window pane.

Akaashi found he couldn’t breathe.

The Johzenji players were split between horror and actually falling to their knees in laughter.

Datekou looked even more nervous than before.

Terushima started to take a step back when he was suddenly smacked on the back of his head.

 

« »

 

“Um, excuse me! What the hell did you just do!”

Terushima turned to face his boyfriend, standing behind him with a look of malice burning in his eyes.

“Kenjirou, I didn’t mean for that to happen...” Terushima said weakly.

“Let’s all calm down now,” Ennoshita inserted, jogging quickly over. “Terushima didn’t mean to break the window. Keiji, it was an accident, right?”

Akaashi nodded slowly, the blithe feeling he’d had during the match suddenly flooding out of his body.

“Oh man, Teru what did you do this time?” Futakuchi was laughing, mostly at the look on Shirabu’s face.

“I was just doing a trick shot! Our match was just starting to get really interesting! It was really cool!”

“Yeah, until you shattered the window,” Yahaba laughed, walking over to the wall of the gym and running a finger along one of the many cracks in the glass.

“How bad is it?” Shirabu asked, running over as well.

The glass pane was still in one piece though it looked like the smallest touch could send all the fragments tumbling to the ground.

“Kenjirou, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to break your school!” Terushima sprinted toward the window and his boyfriend.

“Shirabu, please don’t murder him. That would just create an even bigger mess to clean up,” Yahaba warned.

Shirabu studied the distressed look on Terushima’s face for a moment before speaking. “Unfortunately, I’m used to your ways and if something is going to get broken, I know it’s going to be your fault and I know that if you’re involved, something is going to get broken.”

“So it’s okay? You're not mad?”

“Dipshit.” Shirabu punched his boyfriend’s chest hard. “I'm pissed. What the hell were you thinking!?”

“I said I'm sorry! I'll be your slave for the rest of the night!”

Shirabu laughed. “Oh, honey, you're going to be my slave for the rest of this training camp.”

Ennoshita turned his attention to his own boyfriend. “I hear you weren't blame-free in this either.”

“Oh, uh...” Akaashi looked away and fidgeted with his fingers. “Sorry? I just spiked the ball. Actually, it was pretty cool. Or, it would've been if it had worked.”

Shigeru glanced at Kenji, raising his eyebrows. “Can you do trick shots like that, Kenji?”

Kenji cleared his throat and shifted. “I’m made of trick shots. You know that, Shi.”

“Can you spike someone else’s spike like Teru can?”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to learn since I’m that good.”

Yahaba grinned and took ahold of Futakuchi’s hands. “You’ll learn for me?”

“U-uh, yeah of course! Anything for you!”

Yahaba looked satisfied until he glanced at Shirabu. “Hold up. Did you get blood on my shirt?”

Shirabu glanced down at his sleeve, still dotted with red from earlier. “It’s not my fault.”

“Could be worse too,” Ennoshita commented, drawing attention to Futakuchi, wearing his white shirt, the top also infused with blood from the unfortunate receive early in the afternoon.

“Blame Teru for this!” Futakuchi shot back.

“You could’ve not received with your face, you know,” Terushima replied, sticking his tongue out.

“I don’t know why we’re impressed with you and your ‘trick shots.’ All you’re really doing is breaking shit.”

Shirabu crossed his arms. “Yeah, remember that one time we had that conversation about _toning it down_?”

Terushima grabbed Akaashi by the shoulders and hid behind him. “Someone blame Akaashi and not me! Please?”

“Hey, guys, everyone shut up!” Ennoshita gestured toward the rest of all of their teams that they’d left unattended.

Everyone was mixed around, chatting with members of other teams.

“Well that’s not normal,” Futakuchi commented, hands on hips.

Yahaba nudged Shirabu. “See? We said this was going to be a good thing in the end. Look at how well our teams are getting along!”

“Huh. And look at how much more than normal I want to punch you in the face.” Shirabu glared.

“It was a pretty good team-building exercise though, don’t you think?” Ennoshita asked with a faint smile. “The six of us, uh, wound up with a few issues, but we usually do anyway and we’ll get over it. The important part is that our teams are starting to figure out how to be friends off the court. Which is what we wanted in the first place!”

“There’s going to be a lot less tension when we all get together like this,” Akaashi agreed. “Hopefully this friendship will last even after we graduate.”

Futakuchi sniffed. “Nah. It’s too peaceful now. I’m going to go start shit.”

“I’m going with!” Terushima took off toward the cluster of other volleyball players, Futakuchi in tow.

“Here we go again,” Akaashi sighed.

Ennoshita laughed and loosely took Akaashi’s hand, pulling him in the same direction. “C’mon, let’s just all have fun together.”

“Are our teams actually going to get along now, or is peace an illusion?” Shirabu narrowed his eyes at Yahaba as they walked over as well.

“Can’t say for sure, really.” Yahaba shrugged. “But if we keep trying for this, everyone’s bound to catch on at some point. All the animosity our teams have always had between each other needs to stop though. It’s dumb.”

“Well, I can see how someone wouldn’t like your team, but I don’t see why anyone would think badly of Shiratorizawa.”

Yahaba punched Shirabu’s arm, laughing anyway. “You’re really not helping your case.”

Shirabu smirked. “Well, we’re good right? So I don’t see why our teams can’t get along too. I think we’ve made peace with pretty much everyone else here.”

“We just have to be good role models for them. Can you handle that for once in your life?”

“As long as you can too.”

The two setters joined the group of their fellow captains and Yahaba grinned, raising a hand to grab a few high fives. “This was fun, guys. If we keep this up, I think all our teams will be able to get along.”

“Even if they’re gonna hate us a little in the process, it’s going to be worth it,” Futakuchi agreed.

“Having this off the court is going to make us stronger on the court as well,” Ennoshita added. “There’s no rule that says we have to hate our opponents, no matter what happens during official matches.”

Akaashi smiled slightly. “I wasn’t sure about this idea at the beginning, but I plan on seeing one of you at nationals and I can only hope that the bond we now share will make it an even better match.”

Terushima slung his arms around the people next to him, pulling everyone into a huddle. “Even if we don’t all get along 100% of the time, I don’t see why we can’t still all be friends! Disasters are part of friendship! The best part.”

Shirabu grinned. “It can be a new era for all of our teams and maybe we can pull some other in too. There were reasons for the feuds between our teams, but I don’t think they really matter anymore. The longer we hang on to them, the worst it’s going to get. So we might as well call a truce.”

“Truce,” the others agreed.


End file.
